


oh, darling, where have we been?

by Laeana



Series: built our house on glory (2020 podium) [8]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Boys Kissing, Celebrations, Champagne, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, First Victory, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Monza GP 2020, Podium, Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship, charles congratulating his bf, just Pierre realizing he won his first GP, lots of kiss, what a race
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:48:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26327395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana
Summary: And the-The taste on his lips.Is it what they call victory ?
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc
Series: built our house on glory (2020 podium) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833505
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	oh, darling, where have we been?

And the-

The taste on his lips.

Is it what they call victory ?

Pierre can’t believe it. Oh gosh, he just can’t but he made it. He just made it. He crossed the line while being first. He just won a GP and fuck them. Fuck them all. He knows he deserves this, he knows.

His mind dizzy. He almost feels deaf. A buzzing in his ears as he parks his car in parc ferme, in front of the P1. He gets out and screams, throws himself in the crowd and he can’t help but feel … so much at once.

He made it.

And he made it for Anthoine, for all their memories shared. 

And he made it for himself, to prove his detractors they were wrong.

And he made it to show people RedBull didn’t destroy him, but made him stronger.

And he made it.

He’s shaking and screaming a lot and no one can blame him. No one. And his happiness … a bit of numbness too, as he tries to realize what he did, gives him full energy.

He doesn’t think about RedBull, about his demotion, about Alex. He can only think about himself. And about the ones that are by his side.

Carlos and Lance congratulate him.

He’s flying, somehow. It’s hard to land. It’s hard to realize. It’s really hard. He thinks he can never get enough of this. Adrenaline that hit him. Carlos was close but he crossed the line first. He maintained that gap and that position.

This victory is all his.

The fallen boy who raises once again. After Brazil, after his first podium, now his first victory and a career more successful than at Red Bull.

No. 

Now isn't the time to think about that.

Romain congratulates him and then, soon after, it’s Charles that meets him. An arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“Congrats Pierre, I’m so proud of you.”

Pierre can only thank him. A lot in his throat. Words that can’t quite come out. He loves him, gosh, he loves him. Even with all they’ve been through, he still is irremediably in love with him.

Lots of moment. Everything seems to be going too fast around him. He feels like he can’t even breath. He’s underwater. 

Champagne, champagne everywhere.

La Marseillaise that echoes through the crowd. Pierre can’t help but be proud. He’s so proud. 24 years. A gap. The first Frenchman to win a race since 1996. He could cry. He’s so emotional. 

Applause all over. 

He sits on the podium step after that and talks smoothly with Carlos and Lance and then they leave and he’s alone. He climbed on the highest step of the podium. The one he dreamt of so often. 

Disbelief. 

He pinches his nose. That’s just … numbness in his mouth, comfortable buzzling in his ears, taste of champagne on his tongue. Trophy to his right. 

Weird feeling really.

Feels like he’s on the top of the world.

It’s only a victory though. Only one, the usual for Lewis now, but it means so much more to his eyes. So much more. The first one, not the last he hopes, he believes, he wishes. He can’t know about the future, he doesn’t know what he’ll do for the next years. But he wants to be here once again.

He wants to come back, to stand on the highest step and laughs because he’s bringing one more victory home, one more victory to France.

And after all, he can as well be successful later. This start of the season has been amazing. Every second of it. In the end, at the end of the day, he’s happy to drive, to be in F1. 

Seconds that are blurry.

His mechanics, somehow his family, kind of his family since he’s growing by their side, lift him once more, he has flashes of Brazil, screaming, wrapping him in their arms, keeping him sheltered from the rest of the world. 

Where he feels at ease. Where he feels trust, where he feels he can bloom fully. Every driver needs this. Confidence. Trust. 

Love, in some way.

He never gave up. He never looked back. And he’s here.

Interviews over, meeting over, and then Pierre just lay down in a seat, in his motor home, eyes closed for a second. He still has to check his phone, there’s a lot of things he has to do again.

But these are things that can wait some seconds more.

He needs to call his parents.

He needs to hear them. To tell them; “ _ It was hard, we went the hard way but in the end it’s always worth it. _ ” and “ _ I’m sorry for the bad moments, for the screams, for the quarrels, I know no one is more proud of me than you are - and no one supported me more than you did. _ ”

A lot of words that don't come out enough. He needs to deliver them. He needs to do it because it always can be too late. They are fighting against time and they always are missing of time spent with their loved ones.

He knows it far too well.

Different messages. He scrolls through it. Answers as much as he can. Congratulations. From so many people and they are happy for him and it’s incredible. Again, who would have thought he’d win this race ?

Life is so strange sometimes.

**u want to see me ?**

Charles texted him some minutes ago. He smiles a bit when he sees that. Never too far from each other.

**only if u want to** , he replies.

Pierre wonders if the answer will come quickly or not. If Charles kept his phone around or not.

**ur apartment?**

He agrees quickly and the perspective of seeing Charles after this race, after this victory, can only make him happier and happier.

Passing his entrance door, being welcomed by the sight of his monegasque cooking something that smells delicious. What a domestic view. That comforts his heart and lights up his soul.

“My love, my champion, you’re already home.” notices Charles with a small smile curved on his lips.

“A bit exhausted and still shocked but … yeah … home.” the word slips out his mouth, familiar, heartening, heartwarming “Are you okay ?”

“I was sore, a bit, but I’m fine now. More fear than casualty.”

“I’m glad to hear this.”

Pierre advances and embraces his boyfriend tightly. Smile in the kiss. What a day, what a race. 

“Did you keep a bit of champagne ?” then asks Charles, moving a bit, keeping them awfully close.

He just wants to kiss him all over again, until their lips are swollen and red.

“Already emptied it on the track.”

“Ow, are you drunk ?”

“Nah, not enough.”

The younger one smiles once again and opens the fridge. A bottle of champagne, again one, that he holds in his hand, proudly but still a bit shyly.

“I bought the most expensive one.” starts Charles and when he sees Pierre about to disagree, he resumes quickly “For your first win, it didn’t seem much.”

“Charlie … come here.”

The other driver carefully sets down his bottle before coming back in his arms. They stay for a while like this, body pressed against body. Warm. Inside and outside. Italy, Milan, what a nice country, city. He’ll keep great memories from here, that’s sure.

“You’re really a squid you know that ?”

The nickname makes him laugh a bit.

“Stop calling me that. I saw your posts you know. People will start to ask for explanations !”

Charles just shrugs and kisses his cheek, resting his head against his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you. Really proud. We’re all proud of you. That we are by your side or not. You deserve the whole fucking world, Pierre, I’m serious.”

He knows it, he knows what his boyfriend thinks about him. He can only say that the feeling is mutual, always has been and always will be. Love. A curious variable, hundred of possibilities and they ended up like this. 

Best friends to lovers. The evidence right in front of their eyes and he remembers the upside-down, the fights, the uncertainties that could have killed them. But in the end, they love each other and that’s all that matters.

This bright afternoon, this feeling of loss and winning at the same time, the grief, a deaf pain, a hand in his … moment he’ll never forget. Their first moment.

“Well, talking about it …” he starts, suggestive, sliding a little innuendo in his words.

He can hear Charles laughing against his neck and this breath gives him shiver. After all they’ve been through, they always fall and stand again. And again and again and again. Because what can they do except rise ? 

“I know, I know. A reward for my race winner.”

A promise.

They left many things behind them. Friends, close relations left them on their way to the top. And sometimes the only thing they can do is to look down at where they were and remember they weren’t alone.

None of us are.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> okay, okay. That's what I call efficient work. I couldn't help but write about it as quickly as possible even though I should go get some rest ... because classes and all ... But PIERRE JUST HAD HIS FIRST VICTORY OMG !!!! I'm so happy, guys, so happy. I was shakened by the whole race and the ending ...  
> This is how I start a week with a good mood :))
> 
> I tried from the most humble way I could to talk about it, so I just wrote. I tried to think about what it felt like to be on a podium, to win something, I'm sure it will never equal a F1 victory but here it is ... I hope you liked this work ! See ya, hope you'll have a good night/day ...
> 
> tumblr : laeana


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